


His Majesty

by Ready4This



Category: Paladins: Champions Of The Realm (Video Game)
Genre: Character Development, Gen, my take on how a character like bomb king can grow and develop, paladins needs more fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22568650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ready4This/pseuds/Ready4This
Summary: With no particular direction in mind, Bomb King begins a long trek across the realm. Making new friends and enemies among his subjects. Perhaps he may even learn something about himself. What kind of king does he want to be?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

They were late.

King Ansfrid sat on his throne, peering out the balcony of his castle every few minutes. The neighboring kingdom of Yisal still intact. The king anxiously stroked his aged beard in thought. The land he ruled over, the kingdom of Otomor, was a relatively peaceful regime. However, he feared that those days will come to an end. There was immense tension rising between Karne, the head of the Magistrate and the former leader of the Paladins, Valera. A tension that could at any moment erupt in a devastating war and end the Realm’s golden age.  
He had done his part in protecting his kingdom from Karne’s wrath by cracking down on the use and distribution of the magic crystals within his kingdom. Ansfrid allowed for the commoners to have their homes searched by Karne’s men. Many were injured, but he believed it was a price to pay for their safety; better a broken arm or leg than a severed head he thought. After turning a blind eye and desperately trying to ignore the pleas of his subjects, he handed every single crystal over to Karne’s search party and gave them a feast and drinks to boot. Normally he wouldn’t reward barbarians such as them, but he needed them to put a good word out to Karne, to let him know that the kingdom of Otomor is not a threat.

However, a dark thick fog of distrust and paranoia has erupted within his kingdom since then. Ansfrid, a king who once was bowed at every single corner and carapace, someone who was endeared by men and children alike, now shunned him. His conscious now filled with the glares of the men and women and the fearful gazes of the children haunted him. He had hoped they would understand that he was doing this for them. Had all the years of his benevolence and kindness meant nothing?

Yet, the worst of his fears was yet to come. What he considered to be an ally, turned out to be an enemy. Yisal, a kingdom he had respected and traded with for years, had turned on the Magistrate and sided with Valera. Their king, Radolf, a man near on his deathbed, refused to let Karne’s army through their borders and allowed his subjects to keep their crystals. When news reached Ansfrid, he was furious. Did Radolf not care what would happen to Yisal? Surely, he knew how powerful Karne is and what he can do. He could be killed for treason along with the rest of his kingdom! Ansfrid felt his anger swell up more when the local peasants would speak of Radolf in high regard and talk of commoners taking their families over to the Yisal began to slowly arise.

The constant guilt, paranoia, and rage only served to fuel Ansfrid’s next actions. He contemplated a plan to cease Yisal and gain the Magistrate’s good graces, so that his kingdom may be put under Karne’s protection. It felt dishonorable, but it could be the only way to gain back the respect of his people. He would have to break the peace treaty between Otomor and Yisal made centuries ago and force Yisal to be under his rule. It’s the only way he can revert Radolf’s foolish decision and hand the crystals back to the Magistrate. In a way, he was protecting both his kingdom and theirs.

For the conquest to work, he enlisted not only an army, but the aid of his best warlord and warlock: Anna and her younger brother, Albus. Anna towered over most men, including the king himself, her green dyed hair matching her green hazel eyes complemented the fire in her loyalty for her kingdom. She earned her rank from her clever ambushes and with the aid of magic from her brother, her plans were nearly flawless.

After explaining his desire to take over Yisal and tasking his warlord to conjure a plan of action, her brother, a younger brunette with blue eyes turned to Ansfrid and pointed his staff at him. “I’m sorry my liege, but... should we really be doing this?” he asked, fixing his glasses that were far too wide for him. “I won’t say what the people have been saying, but… this definitely won’t help them trust you agai-”

“I did not ask for your opinion, Albus.” Ansfrid interrupted. “I am ordering Anna to-” he took a deep breath. “… to please do as I say and find a way to infiltrate Yisal. I truly believe this is the best course of action we can take for Otomor.”

Albus shook his head and looked to his sibling. “Anna, it’s your call. I really don’t want to do this, but I’ll help in any way I can if you do.”

Anna looked down into Ansfrid’s eyes. Almost as if she was searching for something. “My lord, if you truly wish for me to take your armies into Yisal’s lands then I will and will do so until they are under your rule, but tell me that you are doing this for the sake of our people and not for petty jealousy.”

A flick of anger flashed through Ansfrid’s features before he calmed himself and kept a determined stance. “I vow on the gods themselves that this is all for the people. You have my word as your king.”

Anna continued to stare at Ansfrid, searching for any sign of hesitance. When she saw none, she gently smiled and bowed, signaling her brother to follow her out of the room.  
Thus, a plan was made, and they had set off towards Yisal, with only a “We’ll have it conquered in an hour, my lord,” from Anna. It’s been an hour and 15 minutes and not a peep was made from them. He thought he would see an explosion or a fire by now, but the silence was unbearable. Had something happened to his army? Did Radolf somehow know about his ambush? Have Anna and Albus betrayed him and join Radolf’s armies?

His thoughts were interrupted by a warm hand wrapping around his. “Dear, I know how you get when you worry like that, please talk to me if you need to.” Ansfrid straightened up in his seat and turned to the one woman he could trust. The sun bouncing off her blonde wavy hair made her seem years younger.

“I-I’m sorry, Evelynn. It’s just that… those two should be here by now with a report. I am fearing the worst at this point. Even they had doubts about my orders.”

His wife merely smiled. “But they went to follow your orders, didn’t they? I know the people have been doubting you, but I know that you’re doing all this for a righteous cause.” She paused, her smile faltering. “It is of course, isn’t it?”

Before Ansfrid could answer, they heard an explosion from below their floor accompanied by shouts of panic. “What’s going on?!” Evelynn asked her husband, her calm demeanor now shifting to fear.

“Stay here, dear. I will go check with the guards.” Ansfrid stood up from his throne and signaled the guards next to them to heed his command and lead him to the source. They nodded and proceeded to lead him down the room, but before they could reach the doors to the throne room, they slammed open. The guards readied their spears, but dropped their stance at the sight of a panting Anna carrying an unconscious Albus. Her armor was dented and the plating was nearly torn off, but what disturbed Ansfrid the most was the look of sheer terror in Anna’s battle hardened eyes. An expression he would rather not see in his warlord.

“M-My lord!” Anna finally gasped, nearly dropping her brother on the ground. “The army is- It’s gone! Every soldier is dead!”

Evelynn gasped; Ansfrid could only open his mouth in shock before regaining his voice back. “What?! What do you mean they’re dead?!” he exclaimed. “Did they somehow know about our plan?! Do we have a spy in our midst Anna?!”

She shook her head. “No, my lord, it was something else. Just please, do not antagonize him at all if possible!”

“Him?! What the hell are you talking abou-"

An explosion sent the doors to the throne room flying, nearly hitting Anna whilst she carried Albus to safety. The guards readied their spears once more, this time with clear intent on butchering the person wreaking havoc.

Among the rubble and smoke, a booming, almost… regal voice rang off. “Bah! What’s with all the pointy weapons, meatbags? Is this how you lot greet your king?”

Confused, Ansfrid took a step back. “Who are you and what do you want?!”

The voice laughed, its footsteps sounding metallic. “Oh, like you wouldn’t know! But I’ll introduce myself anyways since I must be a tolerant king for you meatbags.”  
The thing walked through the smoke; a smug grin plastered on its small metal head with a fuse growing on top of it. A machine with a molten oven for a stomach. The thing took a royal pose in front of his guards and proclaimed, “Greetings subjects! Your Bomb King has arrived home!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
This had to be some awful nightmare. He must have gone mad from the stress. Ansfrid is well aware that the realm is home to some rather unorthodox creatures, but after the Magistrate had founded the Outer Tribunal and sent forth their ruthless judges, their numbers have dwindled and moved to the farthest outskirts to avoid humans. Dwarves and Elves still roamed about, but he could tolerate them. They can at least communicate and weren’t a threat as long as they knew their place.

However, this “Bomb King” standing in front of him clearly does not know his place. This must have been the thing that demolished his army and if it had the power to do that, then his pride as king of Otomor could not allow it to live. He’d be violating Outer Tribunal laws, but to hell with it all.

“Guards!” he spat, snapping them out of their own shock as well. “What are you waiting for?! Attack it!”

“NO!” Anna screamed from across the throne room, barely standing on her own two feet after setting her brother down. “DO NOT ANGER HIM!”

The guards ignored her warning, readying their iron spears, and pointing them at the Bomb King. “Surrender, metal creature! In the name of the king!” uttered the guard on his left.  
Staying in his royal pose, Bomb King glanced between the two guards. He cocked his head and huffed. “What rubbish are you talking about, peasant? I am your king!” He took notice of Ansfrid, the only human in the room with a cape and crown and realization dawned on Bomb King. “AHA! I see! You meatbags are just confusing that one as your king!”

“King Ansfrid IS our king, you abomination,” the guard on his right snarled. “Surrender or we will be forced to take you apart, down to the last ingot!”   
Bomb King merely chuckled and shook his head. “Of course, you meatbags would confuse that one for your king. All he had to do was steal my crown and cape!” He sighed; small sparks of fire erupting from his mouth. “You people don’t exactly have the brightest of fuses,” he said, stroking an imaginary beard with his fist. “Oh well. No matter.” He stuck out his arm and out of an opening a small sticky bomb yelped and bounced into his palm. It took one look around the room and its mouth opened with glee; eyes wide with manic excitement that disturbed the guards.

“All I have to do is blow up that impostor and you meatbags will come to your senses!” Bomb King gripped his sticky bomb tighter against his palm, narrowed his eyes at Ansfrid, and leaned his arm back in aim. 

Ansfrid’s eyes widened in fear and he swore he saw the sticky bomb’s eyes lock with his in anticipation. “GUARDS! PROTECT YOUR KING!”

“BEGONE! MEATBA-”

There was a massive clanging sound that rang throughout the throne room as both guards took this chance to attack Bomb King. Their iron spears colliding against his metal torso managed to catch him off-guard, forcing him to drop his sticky bomb as he had fallen to a knee to stop his wide body from crashing onto the floor.  
The guards stepped forward and shoved the tips of their spears against Bomb King’s head, his fuse now drooped onto the floor. One of the guards smirked at the sight and stepped on it, grinding his foot against it. “We warned you, metal monster and now prepare to face the consequences for your crimes against the king.”

Ansfrid watched the display of aggression and released a sigh of relief. He felt embarrassed that he had lashed out so easily, but what was the proper reaction to a delusional machine wanting to blow you up? While his guards taunted it, he gave a reassuring smile to his wife and couldn’t help but smirk knowingly at his warlord. “See, Anna? Nothing to worry about. Whatever happened during your siege must have been a mist-”

A sizzling sound wiped the grin off his face. A faint smell of something dangerous filled his nostrils. He never stepped a foot into a battlefield nor did he know the specifics of explosive weaponry; he had a warlord for that, yet somehow he could instantly recognize the smell of a bomb just waiting to go off.  
He quickly turned back to face the source. Panic returned to his eyes at the sight of the bomb’s fuse alight, slowly increasing in intensity. The guards gasped in shock and tried to fan out the flame of his fuse, but it only seemed to sizzle faster at their attempts.

Bomb King lifted his head, his glowering gaze set onto Ansfrid. He stared back into the bomb’s sockets, frozen in place. The scorching flames from within were no longer contained, leaking out of their chambers and seemed to almost have a life of their own. Ansfrid could feel the temperature of the room rising, but his body refused to respond to the adrenaline pumping into his nerves. 

He had never witnessed such an intense rage and it all was directed at him.

Bomb King began to visibly shake with fury. “… I’ve only been in my kingdom for a few hours and you meatbags continue to infuriate me.”

“Grab his fuse, idiot!” One of the guards yelled at his companion and latched onto Bomb King’s fuse and pulled with all his might. Bomb King did not budge from his spot, his glare still locked onto the meatbag impostor standing there, mocking him.  
“Bringing a king to his knees is downright disdainful. You should all be punished for this!” Bomb King’s voice has lost all his regal demeanor, his booming metal voice made Ansfrid’s skin crawl. 

“HE’S NOT MOVING!” The guards let go of his fuse and ran back in front of their king. A useless effort, but Ansfrid had to admit he felt protected and appreciated them that much more. “MY LORD, RUN!” 

“I-” His mouth felt dry, he couldn’t speak. Why was this happening to him? He had done everything in his power to be an excellent ruler. Was this some sort of punishment from the Pyre for past mistakes? For trying to break the treaty? He didn’t want to, but he had no choice. Why why why why

“THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR DENYING YOUR KING’S EMBRACE!” Bomb King bellowed.

The last thing Ansfrid saw was Anna, his loyal warlord, hoisting him onto her shoulders before a loud explosion toppled everything. He heard screams of agony… and the fire. Oh gods the fire was all he saw before everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bomb King has some anger issues he needs to work out

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've been a playing Paladins since the ob30s and Bomb King has always been a personal favorite in my heart. In a way I am sort of happy the lore is left up to interpretation for him, so that I can come up with this story for him.


End file.
